PARIS, FRANCE.
Bellatrix felt a faint lightheadedness from how far she'd jumped in apparition; from the Dark Lord's private home to Calais and then straight to Paris. She was struck immediately by an icy chill no sooner had the lightheadedness abated. It was sunny in Paris but despite being nearly midday it was absolutely frigid with cold. She kept her head low and began walking, her breath coming out in clouds of cold air. She was thankful then that she'd worn her warmest clothing and charmed the fur coat which reached her mid-calf with self-heating spells. The fur of her long coat cocooned her neck as she tugged up the collar a little before she adjusted her gloves and began her walk.
Bellatrix hadn't hesitated to find herself a quiet little muggle hotel once she'd transfigured her features. She knew it wouldn't be safe to go to her Great Aunt's apartment here in the city. She also knew it wouldn't be safe to go to to her usual haunts. Killing muggles and taking their apartments would arouse suspicion, she thought. The French Ministry might notice magic was afoot when the muggle police were reporting two missing people who'd disappeared without a trace. Hotels were risky too but not as dangerous. So she made her hair blonde, her eyes bright green, her nose a cute round button shape, her lips a little thinner and her cheeks a little more filled out.
At the hotel she'd confunded the man at the desk into thinking she'd paid for two nights, and made her way up the flight of stairs once he wished her a pleasant afternoon and handed her a key to room 2A. She warded the door and the windows from the inside and placed an apparition detection charm of a short enough radius she could to out of there if things got bad fast. She charmed the windows so she could see out and no one could see in, then she soundproofed the room and also transfigured the bed to something bigger and with a nicer mattress and a thick satin covered duvet. The place would do for the next couple of days.
She'd heard plenty about the magical underworld here in Paris and visited twice in her life — once with her father and once more in the company of her Aunt Walburga. They were an oppressed people who hated living amongst muggles. Though she might've known her way around, she had to remember there were traitors amongst her midst of Death Eaters.
Once she'd left her dingy little hotel which had been charmed with a few improvements, she made her way into West Paris, where the city's royal crypts were. She traversed the city with transfigurations on her face given her title as 'public enemy number one' in England. She wasn't willing to risk the chance the French Ministry didn't see her as equal a threat as England currently did.
As she walked, she flit through the minds of all who she passed, non-verbal legilimency tapping to the undercurrents of their minds. As she neared the crypts, she found what she was looking for. A short old woman was confused by a strange looking man in bright blue robes and a pointed hat coming out of the old mausoleum. A wizard, obviously, Bellatrix could tell, though the woman had thought he was exceptionally odd for to see someone dressed so brightly in early Winter — and coming out of a crypt.
She mimicked whispers of magic she felt all around once she approached the wrought iron gates, feeling wards and magic begin to buzz through her veins the closer she approached like a heavy throb of a heartbeat. The underworld's access required the right kind of magic. They witches and wizards may not have been dark in themselves per-se but they'd certainly enchanted the place to not let any light come in. It would take some clever magic on her part, but as far as how much the magic folk within the confines of the underworld liked to question who came and went, she had no doubt they made getting in, the hardest part.
Revellio, she thought to herself, flicking her wand and letting the lights illuminate themselves across great stone doors. She watched as the magic spoke to her, speaking on the importance of secrecy, privacy, and invisibility of all visitors at all times. This went beyond what the wards intended; anyone who'd heard enough of the underworlds knew that people who broke the rules were punished for breaking the secrecy of the place, even if no one could prove what exactly happened to them.
The spirits which haunted the old mausoleum knew nothing of this fact and would never question their new arrival. Bellatrix tapped her wand in a series of patterns which knit together to forge the ancient symbols of the House of Black. She'd watched her Aunt and her father do the same years ago. For entry, one had to belong to very specific wizarding communities — one of which included the Sacred 28.
A loud pop reverberated throughout the corridor as the wards blew away in a burst of dust, ashes and grey smoke. Bellatrix entered the now magically opened passageway, a low thrumming sound echoed along the tunnel, lighting up the area ahead of her with a soft red glow. Dark shadows danced back and forth, snatching each other in brief flashes of white light as a cacophony of screeches mixed with loud metallic clanks soon filled the air. In the clearing, there was a large fire pit that filled most of the space between two wide pillars made of granite slabs. Beside the fire pit, next to a large boulder covered in sharp spines stood three bodies, none of which moved or seemed alive. Most likely they were all bones which had long ago rotted away but Bellatrix, who hadn't any practical experience with necromancy, couldn't be certain.
Bellatrix stared down into the pool of fire. This was the true entrance — and it required blood. To spill the purest blood in the world was payment enough to gain entry. She pulled her dagger from her sheath beneath her coat and quickly slid it across her palm. She clenched her hand tightly, fingers squeezing and them releasing to allow blood to drip into the flames. Crimson seared for a long few moments and fire crackled loudly, casting terrifying shadows across the walls of the tomb, then the flames slowly faded to blue. A white flame shot up from the pit, licking at the rock and sending a high-pitched shriek echoing through the chamber. The stone barrier crumbled as bits of glowing red debris began to drop down into the crater of the former barrier which now appeared as a door. The flames were no longer hot, and Bellatrix knew how to enter. She stepped through, and inside she found a whole world of magic.
What was once a barren and uninteresting crypt turned into an endless palace of wealth. Magic littered the halls, wizards and witches of many kinds socialising, selling, drinking, eating, talking, dealing in the darkest arts and more. Fire burned in a series of hallways along the top of the vaulted ceiling, casting everything in red light. There was food and drink and people everywhere, though the expanse of the place which bustled with heavy deep music seemed empty. There were not the sounds of laughter which would normally have been present in any of the social gatherings Bellatrix knew; this was a magical realm unlike any other, completely untouched by and unattached to normal life outside.
Pillars stretching toward the ceiling sprouted purple vines with gold tendrils weaving their way up and around the room. Witches and wizards all around sat in tables and booths selling and dealing and talking in low voices. Small statues covered in tiny cracks of dirt rested on marble shelves lining the walls; small crystal trinkets glittered here and there amidst exotic gemstones set in rings and necklaces and high above between vaults within the fire-lined ceiling, intricate carvings framed in gold lines surrounded large stained glass windows.
There were large vaulted shelves filled with rows of large crystals that sparkled brightly. One held a chalice carved out of the rarest silver and glass, along with three sceptres made of pale green obsidian that looked like pieces of a snake with three tails coiled together. Several small crystals adorned this collection and seemed to be in the process of forming what looked like the head of a dragon. Bellatrix thought it was probably an ancient dragon whose skull had been used as the source of the glass in the chalice.
The more Bellatrix explored and the deeper she looked, the more artefacts she saw. It wasn't just treasure from before either, the room continued to grow and expand. Strange new things became apparent; elaborate stained glass windows made of deep black marble decorated the far wall, each showing a different scene; a shimmering forest with a waterfall cascading over jagged rocks, a graveyard illuminated by an orange moon, even a tricoloured volcano erupting in fury, the steam swirling upward in a thin ring above the lava lake below.
There were statues everywhere, hundreds of them; busts depicting powerful men and women dressed in rich robes and jewellery, ornate cups and trays, golden statues representing animals and mythical creatures. Many were so intricate they were hard to make out but every single one had something unusual about them. Bellatrix realised that she could tell what the statue represented by the expression on its face or the jewels worn on their head. For example, the sun and moon wore gold crowns on their heads while the mermaid holding the mirror sported twin bracelets around her neck and waist. In another section of the chamber stood two stone wizards standing side by side, their flowing grey robes and masks covering most of their faces. They too were surrounded by what appeared to be priceless treasures.
"Not all this was created for monetary gain," said a low voice beside her. Bellatrix met the gaze of a man with one blue eye and one obsidian. He continued, gesturing to the first statue ahead of her. "The beautiful sculpture of Saturn can lead one into another world entirely."
Bellatrix cocked a brow at the strange wizard, "another world?"
The wizard smirked as he continued, "Mm, let's just say that no one has ever returned from the Saturn sculpture. Whoever goes inside will never come back unless they find what they seek. It is said life becomes impossible after one traverses within that realm." He paused a moment, his discerning eyes studying her face in the fiery glow from above, "but I do not think where you are going and with who you are seeking, you need to bother yourself with such things as the Saturn Statue."
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at the stranger, "how do you know what I'm seeking?" she asked, grasping the hilt of her wand tightly within her pocket.
"There is no need for your wand, I assure you." He insisted, raising his hands in gesture of peace, "when you spill your blood to get in, your deepest desire too is written in the ceilings above. It will remain so until you leave." He shrugged his shoulders very lightly, "all manner of creatures come here, Madame. We must protect ourselves somehow. Do not fear, not all can read it." His gaze lingered on the ceiling. "I know the man you seek." He told her, "in England they call him He Who Must Not Be Named, yes?"
Bellatrix felt her heart thud in her chest as she nod and compelled herself forward when the wizard gestured her over and began walking away. She didn't doubt her proficiency in a duel, she would be fine. If she wanted information that meant sometimes making moves every bone in her body was telling her not to. She had to take risks she was otherwise too calculating to take. Bellatrix nodded once and he clicked his tongue, "come, let us have a seat."
He led her into a selection of great many booths off the main path and gestured two fingers up once he'd sat in the booth with her. Before them materialised firewhiskey, but Bellatrix didn't yet touch hers. She might need to take risks, but she wasn't stupid. The man however, unhesitatingly swigged his glass as he leant a little to speak, "He came here a great many years ago, when his name was neither known nor feared. He traded something very important to my father for information."
Bellatrix tipped her head a little, "and what do you want from me, hm?"
You want information." He said plainly, "that'll cost you just as it cost him."
"How much?" She asked, reaching into her pockets for a pouch she kept on her.
"No Madame you mistake me," he said a light chuckle, "I like that ring very much."
Bellatrix looked down at her hand. On her left hand's ring finger was not her wedding ring. It was the ring she wore the Dark Lord had given her. It was a beautiful platinum band of serpents on either side, both of which met to hold a beautiful square emerald in place. He'd given it to her for her 21st birthday. She pursed her lips a little, "that's not for sale."
"That's a shame," he said, "it's very beautiful. The craftsmanship is exquisite. How did you happen across it?"
"The man I seek gave it to me." She said simply, "how much gold?" His eyes flit to her other hand and lingered on her family heirloom ring of platinum and onyx. It had a skull and the coat of the Black family arms all delicately put together. It was Cygnus' and she had no intention of giving it away, "it's not for sale."
"It's not that I want, Madam." He said, his eyes long since settled on her throat. "Your necklace." Another gift from her Master. The necklace was imbued with ancient, protective magic Lord Voldemort himself had cast upon it. Bellatrix paused a few moments before she unclasped it and handed it over. The man studied it for a time, quietly contemplative, "everything about you madame. . . speaks of magic most evil. Not only from the man you seek — who appears to have placed all manner of wards upon you — but your own too. Your blood is darker than any I have encountered before."
Bellatrix pursed her lips a little, "Tell me what you know."
His strange eyes seemed to see right through her as he studied her, "there are whispers. . . rumours amongst the darkest and lightest of our kind. The man who calls himself Lord Voldemort is still out there somewhere gravely wounded. Strange things happen to those who meddle with the kind of dark, evil magic he has. One does not need to know the expanse of his magical journey to know the scars he bore on his face were not from mere banshee attacks, hm?" He took a sip of his whiskey and tilt his head a little, smiling a little, "I believe the rumours that speak of his immortality. For that, I can offer you a path. . ."
"A path?" Bellatrix almost spat, "how is that supposed to help me find him?"
"It is the same one he took almost four decades ago." The wizard said, "though I warn you, the journey to him will be perilous — and will test you beyond your capabilities."
Bellatrix bit her tongue from hissing her venom. She didn't care. He was worth it until the ends of the earth, "fine. Show it to me."
The wizard withdrew his wand and flourished it in the air. He gave a few flicks and a few twists of his wand and in the air between them a path began to grow. Bellatrix knew what he was doing and she offered her palm. Once he'd drawn the magic, it began to descend, falling into her palm and embedding into her skin in sparkling blue marks much like a constellation and sunk deeper to inky black and then bright red and eventually faded to pink and then the colour of her skin until it became invisible to all but her. It was a map that would lead her where she needed to go but would not help her beyond that. One that would only reveal the next step in her journey once the previous task had been completed — whatever the task may be.
"Good luck, madame." He said quietly, "I hope he is worth it."